


Cuddles and Comfort

by Totally_a_new_username



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Short One Shot, This was honestly done for an assignment last year but i like it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-14 14:53:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13010163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Totally_a_new_username/pseuds/Totally_a_new_username
Summary: Jean and Marco have a mutual cuddle buddy relationship in order to cope with the dangers around them.---This was honestly written for a writer's craft assignment last year, but I'm happy with how it came out. Just a little story, nothing much.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Jean's POV

The lights dimmed down low allow the moonlight seeping through the window blinds to illuminate enough for our adjusted eyes to see each other, but not much else. Today had been a rough day for both of us, and now it's supposed to be time to sleep, but we refuse with reasons of the nightmares. We act tough, but the nightmares are all too much for us. We fight so courageously throughout the day that we have no courage left to face the jarring terrors we experience in our sleep. We aren't the only ones that accounts for. 

We sit together on the bed, cuddled in a warm embrace, thin blanket trapping in the comforting heat. Between the silence of sound breathing and our close proximity, I can feel his heartbeat beating hard against my chest as if it's fighting against mine. It's fast; alarmingly fast. Not dangerously fast, but fast enough to signal panic. 

I rub his back, slow steady circles, and trail his spine and muscle contours absentmindedly. "What's going on in your mind?" I murmur close to his ear. 

Marco doesn't reply for a short while, instead choosing to take in deep, raspy breaths. He's crying. How did I not see he was crying? He interrupts my thoughts with, "I'm not good enough to be here, Jean." His voice is downright pitiful, and I can't stand to hear it. Not like this. 

"Don't say that," I whisper a bit too roughly, voice teetering towards domineering, frustrated by the fact that he thinks so lowly of himself, "you are better than most of the people here, Marco. You're passing training with flying colors, and you're even impressing the teachers." I don't usually speak that roughly to him. I haven't since the first time we laid in bed together, as we are now. I remember that night fondly. I remember him withering around and whimpering, mumbling things in his sleep. I woke him up and he jerked awake before crying. I laid there with him until dawn, trading happy stories of our childhood and cracking jokes. Ever since then, I haven't slept in my bunk alone, and neither has he. Around him, I don't feel threatened as I do with the others. I can drop the facade I build. I don't have to act like a dick to assert my position around him, because there is no position to assert. He knows my strengths, I know his, and we find an equal common ground from there. 

He doesn't reply but instead nuzzles his face into the crook of my neck. His soft breathing tickles, but based on the receding speed of his heart, something about it is relaxing him, so I don't dare move a muscle. His lips press against my neck lightly before letting out a yawn, which triggers a yawn from me and a followup chuckle from him, making me smile. "Good night," he whispers. 'I love you,' he implies. 

"Good night," I whisper. 'I love you,' I imply.


	2. And Then His World Was Ripped Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jean's POV

Nights as such continued up until the day they couldn't. We held each other in the pale moonlight amidst the whispers and snores of the others, protecting each other from our own minds, until I was left there, alone, suffering to myself and comforted by none, haunted by the vivid image burned in my mind of Marco, dead. The moment I saw him, I was ready to die. I was ready to give up all I fought for in order to be with him wherever he was then. I felt urged to grab him and hold him close, cuddle him there in the dead-infested street as I had many nights before in the bunk beds. I wanted to warm his body with mine, and tell him it would all be ok, and he is strong, and we would get out of this safely, but he wouldn't be able to hear my words. He wouldn't be able to hear my lies of false security, and I would no longer hear his beautiful voice; the only beauty left in my the world, gone.


End file.
